Ornamental tiger line drawing

You will not believe the state of the Starlight Rooms since Mr Halloran finished the back wall. Monday he was up that ladder from six until the lamps were lit, and by Friday the whole place smelled of linseed and cheap cigarettes. The tiger is the thing everybody talks about. It comes out of the wall with its head low, as if it means to walk straight across the floor, and its tail goes up and round over the doorway in one great curl that Mr Halloran swears he drew with a single stroke. The ladies on the balcony keep reaching up to touch the panels, which Mr Halloran cannot abide.

On Saturday I danced with Eddie Pryce, who has lived his whole life two streets from the hall and knows the painter's habits. He says Mr Halloran hates an empty space, so every scroll and curved panel in that cat was packed in until nothing was left blank. Then, the week before the opening, he stood at the bottom of the ladder and told Eddie there was one panel he had left bare, down by the front right paw, and he would not say why.

I went and looked this morning, before the cleaners came. It is only a small pale shape among the swirls, no bigger than a playing card. Mr Halloran has evidently decided someone else must finish it. I have a spare pencil in my handbag, and I may yet.

Your loving sister, Nell